considering her loss of identity. Then under further consideration she realized she never really had an identity. Mother was her possible future identity, but until that day might come, she was no one. She was merely a blank hoping to be used by mother. Wearing the name that came with the habit gave her a different feeling she had never had before. It made her feel like she was someone. She only realized it now once she took off the habit because she missed the feeling.
She finally got up and crawled under the bed withdrawing the box with the radio. This time before turning it on, she took a few minutes to charge the batteries up. This gave her a few more minutes to think before talking to Danson.
When the needle on the crank read into the green whenever she stopped cranking, then she knew it was full. She unplugged and returned the generator to the box and then keyed up the microphone.
“Danson?” She said into it.
“Hello Daughter Four Seven Six Two Five.” Danson answered quickly as if he had been waiting for this very call.
“I don’t like that.” She said.
“What don’t you like?” He replied.
“I don’t like being a number. I want a name.” She demanded.
“Then you can have a name.” Danson said.
“But, what is it?” She asked him.
“I don’t know your name Daughter Four Seven Six Two Five. You have not told it to me.”
She set down the radio and paced back and forth a few times. She looked out the small window of the room and did not get any inspiration. She went to the closet and opened it and looked at everything inside. She finally lit on a name.
“I am Maggie!” She said triumphantly. Then she went to the radio and said the same thing to Danson.
“Excellent name Maggie. I am pleased to meet you.”
“Danson?”
“Yes?”
“What do I do next?”
“You go live your life.” Danson said simply.
“I don’t know where to start.” She told him.
“Start in the closet. Get the other satchel, it is for you.”
She put down the radio and extracted the satchel from the closet. It looked like a doctor’s handbag from the outside and when she opened it, it appeared the same on the inside. There were vials of medicine, bandages, clamps, needles, cleansing alcohol, and everything she would need for an impromptu surgery should it be called for.
“What do I do with all this?” She asked Danson.
“That is your passage to the Southern Lands past the Gulf. Far out of reach of Mother.” The computer explained. “That is the agreed upon price for passage.”
“I give them medical supplies?”
“Why do you girls come to that conclusion every time?” Danson asked. “You provide then with medical care.”
“Probably because we have never provided anyone except ourselves with medical care.”
“Probably.” Danson stated. “This will be a new experience to you then.”
“What about my cancer?” She asked Danson.
“When you get where you are going, you can have another Lost Daughter cure you.”
Maggie knew the cure for her ailment. All daughters did. Mother though did not want a body that had gone through it and so those bodies were disposable. She had not even considered the idea that another daughter might help her.
“How do I get there?”
“I have been informed by the harbor master that there is a Rafter in dock today and will be leaving out this afternoon back to the gulf. You will ride with him.”
“He will let me?”
“Yes,” Danson explained, “he has to let you aboard. It is in our agreement. In return you have to provide care for any of their people you encounter on your journey.”
“Anything else I should do?”
“Get something to eat.” He told her.
“I had farina and a banana.” She stated.
“Get some substantial food. Go to La Crux near the harbor, they will feed you well. Then wait there till you see the Rafter return. Keep a low profile because there are reports of a Johnson in town today.”
Maggie shivered. Mother’s policy of ‘borrowing’ engines from the Chuggers had created a huge animosity between the daughters and the Chuggers. They typically killed daughters on sight. A Johnson was the elite of the Chuggers.
Maggie sat in the room for a short time before charging the radio back up again, then carefully packing it away. She opened the satchel and went through the contents very meticulously. She finally realized that she was just trying to delay herself from leaving and repacked the bag. With a last look back, she left and locked the door behind her.
“How can I get to the harbor?” She asked the innkeeper.
He put down his paper and looked Maggie up and down for a moment then pointed to the left. “Go outside and turn left, go down the Harbor Street and you can get there going down that street or any of the next three streets all the way to Quay Road.
She set the key on the counter. “Thank you for your help.”
He slid the key off the counter and back into the pile of papers and then went back to his newspaper.
She peeked out the door and when she was certain there were no groups of Chuggers scouring the street for her, she slinked out. She made pretty good time walking at a speed just short of jogging down the main road. When she spotted Harbor Street she turned left and went down there and it abruptly ended in piers and boats. She saw workers all over the docks and all kinds of boats and had no idea which boat might be the one she was looking for. She remembered the harbor master had spoken with Danson somehow. He would know which boat.
One of the larger buildings had a side office attached to it labeled ‘Harbor Master’. She made her way there. She was intercepted part way by a stringy man.
“How can I help you ma’am.” The porter said eagerly.
“I must see the harbor master.” She stated firmly and continued.
The porter stepped into her way and with a polite smile stated, “Master Ferguson is very busy right now. How can I help you?
“What would you say if I said I was lost?” She asked him.
“I would endeavor to help you find your way Miss…”
She left the prompt for a name go unanswered and continued around the annoying man.
“Just tell me what you need and I will see that he gets right on it.” He stated while stepping back into her path.
She looked around expecting at any moment to see a squad of chuggers storming in her direction. She knew she was likely overreacting, but did not want to risk it. Problem was that she had no idea what a chugger would look like since they all looked different, but all chuggers knew exactly what a daughter would look like.
She turned back to the man. “I am going to see this Master Ferguson, now.” She said this in a very compelling voice that was another gift of her genetic engineering.
The porter stepped back out of her way for a moment but as she stepped forward his arm shot out. “Are you sure you—”
Maggie reached out and grabbed the man by the wrist with one hand and planted her other under the porter’s arm. She took one step in the opposite direction as he was standing which dislodged his feet then heaved him over her own shoulder. He landed flat on his back with all the wind knocked out of him. Maggie stepped over him and continued to the harbor master’s office.
Master Ferguson met her at the door and held it open for her. “I see you met Frankie.”
“I was not amused with him.” She said as she passed.
“Not many are.”
“So why do you keep him?” She asked as she took a seat in one of the guest chairs.
“Brother-in-law.” He said simply. “So what brings one of the beautiful daughters to my harbor? Sylvia waiting for another shipment?”
She shook her head. “Danson sent me.”
“Are you lost?” He asked.
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She nodded. “I have been lost for a few days. I was told there was a boat?”
He got up and crossed the room. Maggie nearly panicked but he passed by her and went to the window. “You see that flat boat out there without any rigging?”
She was now next to him looking out the window.
“The one Frankie is coming off of with a crate of melons?”
“That would be the one.”
“Frankie is the Rafter?”
Master Ferguson chuckled and it grew into a laugh that eventually seemed to shake the walls before it hit its crescendo and came back down.
Still laughing some he managed to say, “That brother of my wife gets sea sick taking a bath!”
Maggie managed a little laugh.
“Oh, thank you.” The harbor master said has he sat back down. “I have not had a good laugh like that in quite some time.”
“Where is the Rafter then?” She asked.
“He went into town to take care of his business.”
“So what should I do?”
“I think you should go ask for Betsy over at La Crux.” He stated.
“She knows where the Rafter is?”
“No,” Master Ferguson said, “but her bursitis is acting up.”
“Sorry?” She was confused.
The harbor master pointed at the leather satchel. “Go talk to Betsy and see what you can do for her. I am sure she will then see what she can do for you.
Maggie picked up her satchel and stepped out the door. She stopped and said something she had hardly said in her life but had said several times today. “Thank you.”
She saw La Crux just a building down from where she was. The whole of the front of the restaurant was glass so that patrons could watch the loading and unloading of ships in the harbor.
She entered the front door and